Search results for

Native plant gardening is booming in the U.S., including in West Texas.

The featured word of this episode is relaje. In modern Spanish it means to relax. In Caló, a relaje is someone who fits in the category of those who behave laxly, who don’t try, and who are the likely weakest link in the chain. In this way, a relaje is also a snitch or tattletale, someone who’ll quickly and thoughtlessly betray the side.

On this week's episode of Caló, host Oscar Rodriguez breaks down the meaning of the words “ruca” and “ramfla." The first word is a term of endearment for a woman, and "ramfla" is a way to refer to the car you drive.

On Caló this week, writer Oscar Rodriguez explores the words “cantón” and "chante" — shared-housing and a home, respectively.

The featured Caló word of the week is capear. In modern Spanish, it’s a verb that means to distract or draw attention, which is what a bull fighter does with his capote, his cape. In Caló, capear means to acquiesce, cooperate, or return a favor or gesture.

Today, the Conchos pupfish can only be found in the Devils River. But there are new efforts to restore this small but mighty West Texas creature.

The feature this week is the term te sales. In modern Spanish, it means you’re getting out. In Caló, it means you are out of line, literally, and you're out of your mind or your normal self, figuratively.

The “Three Sisters” — corn, beans and squash — have sustained Indigenous societies across the Americas, including in the Big Bend area. What are the roots of this ancient cultural heritage?

Órale, the feature of this episode of Caló is the term empicar. In modern Spanish, it means to dive into something headfirst, as in a pique. In Caló, however, it means to become used to or addicted to something, as if stunned by the power of a snake bite. Of course, the first step to becoming empicado, is to be picado, which never comes from an actual snake, but from a very pleasurable or alluring experience, such that the person who’s been picado wants more of it and less of everything else.

Órale, the feature this week is the the verb, huarachar. It’s derived from the noun, huarache, which means sandal in Nahuatl or Aztec. One nuance of huarachar is to walk or dance in huaraches, but the more common use of this word in Caló is as an analogy for uncouth behavior, that is, acting as if you’re someone who customarily wears huaraches—a hick or backcountry person. It’s an insult with many dimensions, economic status, intelligence or worse. If you’re speaking Caló and you have to say somebody is dancing, you say they’re chancleando or zapateando, not huarachando, unless of course you’re intentionally calling somebody a lout or a brute.